His Best Friend (A MFM Ménage)

by Vivian Ward

  “Yes, Dr. Baldwin.” She turns her attention to us. “Please, follow me.”

  As we’re walking down the hall, Jules grabs my hand and smiles. “You’ve got this,” she whispers. “At least you don’t have your legs spread eagle in stirrups with medical students observing your gynecological exam.”

  The image of my legs spread for multiple people to look at my junk makes me feel a bit more relieved that at least I get to do this in private.

  “Okay, here is a remote,” she says, pointing to a small table after we’ve entered a private room. “If you’d like magazines, they’re right under the side table on the end of the couch. We’ll need you to place your sample into this cup and try to get as much of it in there as you can. There are also some tissues to help clean up. Is there anything else I can get you?” She asks.

  “No, thank you,” I say. “How much time do I have?”

  Jules stifles a laugh and pokes me in the side.

  “Oh, take as much time as you need, Mr. Davis. We don’t rush our patients.”

  “Thank you,” I sigh in relief.

  She quickly backs out of the room and shuts the door. I rush over to make sure it’s locked.

  “Well, how do you want to do this?” Jules asks, plopping down on the leather couch as she sets her purse down.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be able to get comfortable,” I say. “What if someone walks by? Or tries to come in?”

  She laughs again, and I want to tell her this isn’t funny, but I don’t. I’m sure if I were on the other side of the coin, I’d probably laugh too but I’m not so I don’t find any of this funny at all.

  “They won’t. The door’s locked so nobody can come in and so what if someone walks by? How many times have we had sex and other people have heard? Why do you care if they walk by while I’m jacking you off?”

  I smile, “Oh, you’ll be doing more than stroking my cock.”

  “Is that so, Mr. Davis?” She giggles, patting the couch. “Have a seat, and we’ll see what I’ll do.”

  She licks her lips and my cock twitches. It’s like she has this spell on me, all she has to do is say the right thing or look at me a certain way and it sends all my blood flowing south.

  Sitting down on the couch, she stands before me, straddling my legs, in a thin, white dress. It’s low-cut but not too much, just enough to show off her cleavage. I take her in, and notice how the lace of her dress hugs her body and how incredibly short it is on her.

  Was it always this short?

  It barely covers her thighs.

  Reaching under her dress, she pulls off her g-string and uses her panties as a makeshift elastic for her hair and pulls it in a sloppy ponytail as she gets down on her knees.

  “You just close your eyes and let me work my magic,” she says, her voice low and seductive.

  Slowly, she unzips my pants and pulls my cock through the opening of my underwear. The slight touch of her hand awakens my cock, but I don’t become fully aroused until the tip of her wet tongue swirls around the head of my cock.

  Leaning back, I close my eyes and pretend that we’re not in a doctor’s office. I make myself believe that we’re still in the cabin, secluded by nature. I grab a fistful of her hair, wrapping it around my hand as I guide her head in a rhythmic motion.

  Her soft hand wraps around the base of my cock as her tongue continues to tease my shaft. It’s not until I feel her nails tracing my balls that I pull myself back into reality and reach for the specimen container. Her eyes lock on mine as she jacks me off until there’s nothing left to give.

  “I think that’ll be plenty for them to test,” she teases, licking a small bead of cum off the tip of my head, swallowing it down.

  “Fuck,” I whisper. “I never thought a head job in a doctor’s office could be so hot.”

  Smiling, I help her off her knees and we wait to exit the room until after she’s straightened her hair and dress.

  Chapter 9

  Jules

  I’ve never been very good at hiding my emotions and now that our test results are both in, I don’t know what to do. My hopes were that the doctors would say that we’re both fine and we’ll conceive when the time is right but it doesn’t look like that’s the case.

  My results came in first. I was so nervous as we sat in my doctor’s office. It seemed like ages passed by as we impatiently waited for her to join us. Fertility testing is no joke. While I waited for my tests to come back, I put myself through hell reading online message boards.

  It seemed like everyone had varying degrees of fertility trouble. Some women were a bit too old and for a minute, I was worried that maybe I was even though twenty-eight is hardly considered too old to conceive. Plenty of women don’t even start having families until they’re my age.

  Rocco and I have had a very fulfilling marriage. We’ve traveled, went on adventures, have our house paid off, and are financially stable. Most of our friends who are our age that have children can’t say that. They often struggle and aren’t financially secure. I can’t think of one friend that’s our age who has children that doesn’t complain about missing out on things or argue with their significant other about money. In a sense, I guess we are lucky that we don’t have those type of troubles but I can’t help but feel like our family is incomplete.

  Of course, I can’t be sure that Rocco feels the same way or even thinks about these things. I was so shocked when he brought up moving to the suburbs. Part of me had thought he’d given up until he asked my opinion on it and agreed to get fertility testing.

  He’s been so quiet lately and hasn’t really wanted to talk to me about trying to get pregnant. Instead, he’s consumed himself with work. I think it’s because he’s just as bummed out as I am and he’s trying not to let his feelings show, but it’s driving me insane. I’ve been so depressed lately and my sleep schedule is completely out of whack. Normally, I’d come home, stay up for a bit and wake up in the late morning but now I’m up all night and don’t fall asleep until right before Rocco gets up for work. Then I spend the entire day in bed and don’t get up until it’s time to take a shower and go to work.

  It’s wreaking havoc on our marriage because we’ve hit another wall. Again. We barely see each other, we hardly talk, and I feel like I’m going out of my mind. Sex seems like it’s completely off the table, except for the few rare times Rocco’s taken me from out of nowhere, and I feel like it’s all my fault for making both of us get tested.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet the last few days,” Harley says to me as I lazily restock the napkins and drink stirs.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?” He asks.

  I think about it for a moment and decide that work is not the best place to talk about all of this. It’s not exactly the kind of thing you want customers to overhear, especially when they’re constantly hitting on you. Plus, I’m worried that I’ll just break down and cry like I usually do.

  “Not now,” I say. My bottom lip quivers as sadness courses through my veins like a poisonous venom. I try to offer an explanation but I can’t. The words are stuck in my throat and if I try to make them come out, I know that tears will begin to spill from watery eyes.

  “Hey,” he says, coming closer to me. “Whatever it is can wait. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat after work where we can talk in private?”

  “Why not? It’s not like I’m going to go home and sleep,” I huff.

  He shoots me a sympathetic smile and says, “You’ve got this, and if you don’t, we’ll get through it together.”

  Why can’t Rocco be that supportive?

  Anger and sorrow wage a war inside me. How can his best friend be more in tune with me than my own husband? How can he show me more sympathy than my spouse? I wonder if Rocco can see the same hurt that Harley can and if he does, why won’t he do something about it?

  After we close the bar for the night, the two of
us hop inside Harley’s truck and head to our local Denny’s. It’s just a short drive down the road but the two of us remain quiet until we get there. I’ve got so many thoughts running through my head that I don’t even know where to begin.

  We opt for a booth near the back of the restaurant, away from other customers to give us more privacy. I pretend to scan over the menu but I’m not reading it.

  “Jules,” Harley says, placing his hand on my menu. “I know you’re not actually reading it. You look pale and your eyes are sunken in. What’s going on?” A long sigh escapes my lips as I try to find the right words but they won’t come. “When was the last time you’ve eaten or slept?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. I stay up all night until the sun comes up, then I go to bed. I’ve not been cooking lately because I sleep until it’s time to get ready for work.” I pause. “Everything is just falling apart,” I say, looking down at my lap.

  His strong, warm hand wraps around my thin, cold fingers. My eyes cut up to his and I can see him hurting for me. He doesn’t even know what’s wrong but his pain is visible. Tiny worry lines crinkle around his eyes as a soft wrinkle creases his forehead.

  “What can I get you to drink?” The waitress asks, approaching our table.

  And just like that, he lets go of my hand and the minute is ruined.

  “We’ll have two Dr. Pepper’s, please,” he orders.

  Rocco never orders for me, yet Harley does. I wasn’t aware that he knew my favorite soda until just now.

  “Thank you,” I say to him.

  “Jules, I’d do anything for you. Now tell me what’s going on. I’m worried about you.”

  “Have you talked to Rocco at all?” I ask.

  He nods his head. “Yeah, actually, I talked to him today. He asked me and a few other guys if we’d all pitch in on building your new house.”

  “What did you say?”

  He laughs, “I said yes, of course. He told me that he’s going to make an offer on the land tomorrow and that he should hear something by Friday or Monday at the latest.”

  That’s news to me, but I don’t say a word. I had no idea he’d been looking at land, let alone that he was going to make an offer on something. I wonder what else I don’t know but decide to do my own investigating later. We’re not here to talk about Rocco or the stupid house right now.

  “Oh,” I say. “Well, we’ve not been talking much lately—at least not since we got the test results back.”

  He leans back against the leather cushion in the booth and tilts his head back. I’ve never noticed how spiky his blonde hair is; he must’ve just gotten it cut or something. His crisp blue eyes focus on my trembling lip and he frowns. Slowly, the pad of his thumb presses against my lips and he whispers, “It’s okay, Jules. You can talk to me. I’m here for you.”

  A tear escapes the corner of my eye but he catches it with his finger. Wiping it away, he looks at it for a moment, then licks my salty tear from his skin.

  “My test results came back fine,” I say, letting out a ragged breath. “But Rocco’s tests didn’t.”

  “Jules,” he says, taking my hand in his again. “I’m so sorry. What did they say?”

  “His sperm count is low. The doctor said that it’s possible we might be able to conceive, but the odds are very, very low. He said that we’d be lucky if it happened.”

  He draws in a sharp breath and wraps his arm around me, squeezing me in a hug. “That’s awful and I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I grab the cloth napkin from the table and unwrap my silverware to wipe my face, careful not to smudge my makeup. “Thanks,” I say.

  The waitress returns with our drinks and takes our order. Once again, Harley orders for me without even blinking.

  “I’ll have the Grand Slam breakfast,” he tells her. “And she’ll take chicken strips with fries. Honey mustard on the side, please.”

  When the waitress walks away, I thank him again for ordering my food. I don’t have it in me to talk to anyone, even if it is just to order food. I wish I could just shrivel up and disappear. No, scratch that. I wish this was all just a bad dream. Our hopes of having a child are becoming slimmer by the second.

  I know we talked about adoption but it’s not the same. I’d been looking forward to all of the appointments, the ultrasounds, feeling the baby kick, and holding an infant in my arms as soon as it was born.

  I could say that I’d be okay with never having a family, but that would be a lie. It means so much to me and even more to Rocco. Never in a million years did I think that something as small as a baby could rip our marriage apart. And even though the testing proved that it was Rocco, I can’t help but feel like such a failure.

  Almost as though he can read my mind, he says, “Jules, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Obviously, Rocco is looking toward the future, and I think you should too.”

  “What? How can you say that?” I ask, a little shocked by his tone.

  “What I mean is that he’s planning on the two of you having that baby or he wouldn’t be going through all the trouble of buying land and building a better house. It’ll happen, you just have to have a little faith.”

  Faith. It’s such a funny word. I’ve had so much hope that it’s unbearable for me to continue fooling myself any longer, but maybe he does have a point. Rocco wouldn’t be doing all of this for nothing, and if he’s not giving up, neither am I.

  “You know, you’re right,” I say, sipping my soda. Suddenly, I feel foolish for having such doubts but I also know what the doctor said. I change the subject because I’m done talking about it. “So, how are things going with you and your woman?”

  He rolls his eyes and this time, he’s the one letting out the long sigh. “Eh, we’re splitting up,” he announces. “I haven’t said anything to anyone just yet. We decided that we’re not cut out for each other and she’s being nice, she’s giving me time to find a place instead of throwing me out on the street. Unfortunately, there aren’t any good rentals right now. I’ve been looking through the paper for the last couple of weeks but either the rent is too high or the places are dumps.”

  An idea pops into my head. “Why don’t you come live with us? I’m sure Rocco wouldn’t mind and we have that extra room. I mean, it’s filled with all of his junk, but we could clean it out and you could stay in it. It’s small but it’ll do.”

  “I don’t know, Jules.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to impose and you guys already have enough on your plate. I don’t want to add anymore to it, but it’s a nice gesture.”

  My mouth pops open, surprised that he’d think he was imposing on us. “Are you kidding me? You’re his best friend and you’re going to help build our new house—and I know you. You won’t take money from us. Let me talk to Rocco. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  The waitress returns with our food and, suddenly, my appetite is back. I feel famished and it smells so good. The chicken strips are crispy and the fries are soggy, just how I like them.

  “Maybe I should talk to him. I don’t want his wife asking favors for me.”

  “Nonsense,” I say, dipping my chicken strip into my honey mustard before I shove it in my mouth.

  “No, I’ll ask him. I don’t want to put any extra pressure on the two of you.”

  “Suit yourself,” I say. “But if you’d like, I could at least tell him what’s going on so that when you do ask, it won’t be totally left field.”

  “Jules, I’ve got it. I promise.”

  We continue discussing the new living arrangement as though it’s a sure thing until our food is gone and we’ve stayed well past our welcome. I think the waitress grew tired of giving us refills an hour ago.

  “Let me drive you back to your car so you can go home and get some rest,” Harley says after insisting on paying for our meal.

  I’ll never understand how he’s been unable to find a good woman. He’s so generous and caring. Before I met him and Rocco, I’d given up on men because I didn�
�t think there were any good ones left, but then two of them popped into my life at the same time. If Rocco hadn’t been so persistent, I could’ve seen myself going for Harley. They’re almost like twins except Rocco has brown hair and Harley has blonde hair.

  When he drops me off at my car, I give him a kiss on the cheek before I get out. “Thank you for tonight, Harley,” I say to him. “I really needed it.”

  His giant hand wraps around my knee, essentially holding me in place. “No, thank you,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without a woman like you in my life. I wish they could all be like you, Jules.”

  A blushing smile spreads across my face. “Come here,” I say, putting my arms out. After a long hug, I finally hop out of the cab of his truck and get into my car. It’s funny, I never noticed it before but his cologne smells really good. The scent is still on my shirt and I inhale it the whole way home as I think about what it’ll be like with him living with us.

  Chapter 10

  Rocco

  Getting things going with the new house has been stressful but at least it’s taken my mind off of things at home. Work has also been hectic because I picked up a new contract with the mayor. If everything goes right, it could mean government contracts in the future for bigger, better projects. I know that we’re going through a rough patch right now, and it’s mostly my fault, but we’ll get through it.

  We always do.

  Jules might think that I’ve been ignoring her, but I haven’t been. I just don’t know what to do with the devastating news that I received from the doctor. It confirmed my worst fear: that I can’t give Jules the baby she so desperately wants and it kills me inside.

  When we decided to go for testing, my hopes were that neither of us had any reproductive issues and that it was just taking time to start our little family. I couldn’t bare to look at her face when the doctor announced that I had a low sperm count. The fear paralyzed me and I was terrified of what her reaction would be.